


CyberLife Productions®

by curiumKingyo



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, PWP, camboy Connor, camboy!au, porn star Hank Anderson, pornstar!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-15 12:31:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15412968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiumKingyo/pseuds/curiumKingyo
Summary: CyberLife Productions is famous for its artistic, plot-driven and absolutely filthy sci-fi porn films.Elijah Kamski, the genius behind the new android porn hype, casts newcomer camboy Connor and retired veteran Hank Anderson to star the newest, and hottest, installment of his masterpiece: Become Human.





	1. Blush

“Connor! It is such a pleasure to have you here.” Kamski says as the young man arrives at the door of the changing room. “You're a bit early, we've still have some time before the shooting starts. Come in."

Connor smiles pleasantly. He is still in awe at receiving an invitation to work with Kamski at the famous CyberLife Productions. The young camboy is a long time fan of both the director and the studio, using a good part of his online income to pay for subscriptions on CyberLife paid channels and their Patreon account. Kamski hugs him when he enters the room.

“It is a pleasure to be here,” Connor replies as he takes a step away from the director.

“How are you feeling?” Kamski asks, taking a good look at Connor’s costume and makeup. “This is your first acting experience, right?”

“Oh, well, I guess it is,” Connor blushes a little. “I mean, I am no stranger to fucking on camera but this is the first time I have a script.”

“Or a partner,” Kamski adds with a sly tilt to his lips. Connor’s blush deepens.

“Yes,” he agrees quietly. Kamksi laughs a little, no ill will on his reaction but it still makes Connor very self conscious.

“Don’t worry, kid,” Kamski pats Connor’s arm soothingly. “That’s why I got you the best.”

Connor’s curiosity is picked. Kamski hadn’t told him who would be on scene with him, and the script didn’t have any indications on this subject either. Kamski guides Connor down a short corridor lined with props and costumes and at the end, they arrive in a room with two large mirrors and make up stations on the wall, and a number of comfortable looking chairs placed in a circle in the center. One of the chairs is occupied, but the man on it is sitting with his back to the entrance making it impossible for Connor to identify him. All the young man sees is a set of broad shoulders and a mess of silver hair.

“Hello!” Kamski greets as they enter the room and the man replies with a simple  _ hi, _ but it is enough for Connor. He couldn’t mistake this voice. A shiver runs up and down his spine and he has to fight hard the smile curling his lips.

His scene partner is Hank Anderson.

There is an entire area of Connor’s sexuality, no, scratch that, an entire area of Connor’s personality shaped around Hank Anderson. He was one of the first porn actors that caught Connor’s attention and one of the reasons for the young man to discover and act on his bisexuality. Hank’s physique, his presence, his  _ voice _ , are all constants in Connor’s imaginary and he has to take a deep breath before finally directing his eyes to his co-star.

Hank is… not what Connor expected. It is true that he had left the industry a couple years before but Connor is surprised to see how much he had changed. He looks tired, his skin is wan and it looks oily, the area around his eyes is sunken deep and he is slumping on the chair like the doesn’t have a single bone left on his spine.

It is… disheartening but also sad to see him like this. Connor somehow keeps a neutral face as he offers his hand for a handshake.

“My name is Connor,” he says affably. “I’m the new actor hired by CyberLife.”

Hank looks at him with passive disinterest but when he takes Connor’s hand he shakes it firmly. Or maybe it is just the fact that his hand is so large and solid compared to Connor’s slim and small one.

“Is he legal?” Hank asks, talking to Kamski despite having his eyes on Connor. A fierce blush raises to Connor’s cheeks as Kamski laughs and shakes his head.

“Anderson, please! Of course, he is. I wouldn’t have you fucking a teen on camera.”

“I am twenty-four,” Connor says, mostly to himself since the other men seem to be ignoring him in favor of staring hardly at each other.

“Well, that sets it,” Kamski says, suddenly turning to Connor and clapping him on the back. “As I said, we still have a few minutes before the shooting so this is the perfect opportunity for you to get to know each other, you know. Get some chemistry.”

Kamski winks at them and goes away before Connor even gets the chance to say goodbye or anything else. The younger man stays in the middle of the room, feeling oddly out of place for the first time. Hank is still slumping on the chair, looking at him with unreadable eyes.

“So, kid, what’s your name again?”

“Connor,” he replies tersely.

“Take a sit,” Hank says and points the chair by his side with a tilt of his head. Connor hesitates for a second before sitting down. The costume they’ve given him fits like a glove, black trousers and a complex suit with blue LED on the sleeve, chest and back. It is futuristic and in good taste, but terribly stiff and uncomfortable.

“So, how did you get to know Elijah?” Hank asks once Connor stops fidgeting on his seat.

“Kamski? He found my channel and got in touch with me.”

“Channel?” Hank echoes.

“Yeah, I am a camboy,” Connor says with a shy smile.

“Oh, I see it,” Hank replies and he sits back a little, tilts his head as if visualizing something in his mind. “Ever been in a film before?”

“No, it will be my first time,” Connor says, and bats his eyes coyly. Hank snorts a laugh.

“Puts a lot of pressure on an old guy,” Hank says.

“Well, you may be old but you’re… Hank Anderson.”

Hank raises an eyebrow.

“This used to mean something, but I’m afraid it doesn’t anymore.”

A heavy silence sets over them. Connor wants to speak, he wants to say something that will make Hank feel better. He doesn’t know what drove Hank away from the industry or what brought him back but he is genuinely happy to meet him and he wants to show it.

“It still means something to me,” he says at last, eyes trained on the floor and blush dark on his cheeks.

“You blush easily,” Hank comments, his voice suddenly soft. “It must look good on camera.”

“So I’ve been told,” Connor says, his heart skipping a beat at the odd compliment.

“Let me see it,” Hank says, sitting forward on his chair.

“I’m sorry?”

“You said you’re a camboy,” Hank says. “Show me one of your videos. You seem to know my work but I don’t know the first thing about yours.”

Connor blinks slowly. Hank Anderson wants to see one of his videos. He will be judged on his performance, he knows it, and if there is one person he wants to impress it certainly is Hank. The old man might not be in his best shape or form but he is still an inspiration for Connor and he would really like to make a good first impression. Maybe even make friends with him, like people with normal jobs do.

Hank is waiting for a response.

“I don’t have my phone here,” Connor says, dumbly, and Hank just fishes his own device from the chest pocket of his shirt.

“Use mine,” Hank says. “I’ll have the link saved if I like what I see.”

Connor’s face burns and he focus all his attention to the phone in his hands. He opens a new tab on the internet browser and types the link to his channel under Hank’s attentive eyes. When did he turn from pitiful slob to sharp and flirty? Impossible to tell, but the difference is feeding wood to the fire slowly rising on Connor’s chest and belly.

He needs to find a good video. No. He needs to find his best video. He knows by heart the ones with most views and comments, but those are not necessarily his favorites. He scrolls down the list of uploads and finally stops, fingertip hovering over a thumbnail.

It is fairly recent, only six months old, and Connor remembers how good he felt recording it. He was feeling good that day and since he had no requests from his Patreon page he was free to do as he pleased. If Hank wanted to know about his work, that was definitely the video to watch. He taps the thumbnail and opens the video on full screen before passing the phone back to Hank.

Hank smirks at him as he takes the phone and sits in a comfortable position. The buffering finishes loading and the video starts to play.

On the video Connor is sitting cross legged on his bed, booty shorts doing a terrible job of hiding his pale, freckled thighs from the camera. He is wearing a tank top with a deep neck that shows a good portion of his chest as he moves. As far as outfits go this is not the most enticing or kinky he’s worn but it is comfortable and teasing and Connor knows he looks positively adorable on it. Hank makes a little noise, something close to a pleased surprise if Connor dares say so himself.

“Hi, there! How you’ve been?” The voice comes from the small speaker on the back of Hank’s phone. Connor knows the initial script by heart, he’s watched this video many times after he uploaded it. “I’ve been pretty good myself, thanks. It has been a while since I made a more spontaneous stream so today I’ll just hang out with you guys and see what happens, all right?”

Hank smiles a little and Connor’s heart squeezes on his chest. Hank’s smile is beautiful. It brings back the strength and charm on him and it is suddenly easy to see the prominent porn star he once was.

Connor doesn’t really watch the video, he is far more interested in Hank’s reactions.

On the screen Connor kneels on the bed, knees far apart exposing the inside of his thighs and the bulge already growing in his shorts. He is babbling on about something or another, other camboys and camgirls and sex shop products he had seen recently, but his words get more and more sparse as he begins to play with himself

First, he just runs his hands up and down his legs, hiking the hem of his booty shorts up to expose more of his skin. His fingers then slide up his tight abdomen and lean chest, bunching up on the soft fabric of his top. Goosebumps rise on his arms and legs and he is glad his equipment is good enough to capture it. Hank lets out a sharp exhale as Connor starts to play with his nipples.

Connor’s cheeks are burning as he watches Hank watching him. The older man’s eyes are intensely focused on the screen, and Connor can see himself reflected on them. He sees, through Hank’s eyes, as he rakes his nails down his neck and chest rising red lines on his pale skin. The tank top soon disappears somewhere behind the camera and a gasp leaves Connor’s mouth as he pinches a nipple in a sharp, hard motion. By his side, in the dressing room of CyberLife Productions, Hank gasps a little as well. Connor allows his eye to slide down Hank’s form, it may be a trick of the light but there seems to be a volume between his legs that wasn’t there before.

Connor blushes, but at the same time, he feels a sliver of pride welling in his chest.

On the video Connor continues to abuse his nipples for a few more moments, moving on to the next part of his body only long after the small points on his chest were puffy and red from his pinches and pulls. His hands finally slide down and he cups his crotch, emphasizing his erection still trapped inside his booty shorts. He rolls his hips up and moans, low at the back of his throat.

His entire body undulates as he  presses his hands down onto his hidden cock. There is a thin layer of sweat gathering on his exposed chest and neck, and his face is tinted pink from top to bottom. He tugs his shorts down and his cock springs free, shiny with precum and dark colored at the head. A broken moan escapes him as he finally get his hand around his cock.

He pumps his erection a few times, thumb playing with the precum gathering at the tip. When he pulls his hand away a sticky line of precum stretches between his fingers and his cock and Connor plays with it a bit, pulling his hand closer or farther away, allowing it to stretch until it broke and dripped down his shaft. Hi slowly brings his hand up his face to suck his fingers clean. He moans, full of pleasure - his oral fixation is one of his trademarks after all. Hank huffs a restrained breath at the sight.

The hand that isn’t being lavished with attention by Connor’s mouth pushes his booty shorts down and away and the camboy is finally completely naked in front of his virtual audience. He lays down a little, supporting his upper body on his elbow. His legs fall wide open and the camera shows the flat end of a butt plug snuggly nestled between his asscheeks.

“Oh, guess I didn’t tell you guys why I am feeling so good, hun?” Connor’s voice comes from the phone, breathy and flirty and happy. “I received this on the mail a few days ago and it feels so fucking good!” As if to prove his point he grabs the plug and moves it around a bit, moaning loudly as he does so.

The angle of the camera is optimal - Connor clearly knows what he’s doing. It is possible to see his hole swallowing up the plug in detail, his legs trembling and shaking and the pleasure on his face in the background. The noises he makes are gorgeous, they are high pitched and breathy but so genuine and full of pleasure. Connor is used to his own sex noises but he can’t help being affected by them.

And neither can Hank, apparently. The older man is pressing his legs together tightly, the hand that is not holding the phone is clenching at the leg of his pants.

On the screen, Connor fucks himself on the plug. It isn’t the biggest or thickest one he owns, not by a long shot, but it is just big enough to stretch him out and it is so easy to maneuver so Connor can hit his prostate with almost every little thrust. He has used this plug many times after, it has actually become a fan favorite, as well as one of Connor’s faves too.

His orgasm comes shortly after. The combination of the plug with his hand deftly working his cock with the sheer pleasure of being watched drove him to the end quite fast. His back arches in a sharp angle when he comes, his moans dying in a strangled noise as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

In the dressing room, Hank’s breath is suspended for the duration of Connor’s orgasm. Blue eyes seem glued to the small screen in front of them. Hank’s tongue flits across his lips, wetting them and making them shine. Connor follows the movement with rapt attention.

On the video, Connor stays still for a while, or as still as his shaking limbs and choppy breath allow him to. When he finally moves again he removes the plug from his ass, giving the camera time and space to capture the way the muscles fluttered, empty, for a moment before closing tightly again. Lube glistens on his inner thighs. At last, he sits back up, a sated and lazy smile on his pink tinted face.

“Oh, I guess it was fun, hun?” Connor laughs on the video and in the dressing room, Hank cracks a smile too. “Ah, I’ve received some questions on the chat. Let’s take a look.”

Connor’s face comes closer to the camera, the sweat shines on his skin and his lips are cherry red from being bitten. He scrolls up and down the chat at the side of the screen until he finds a question he likes.

“So, this one is fun but kinda odd… GReed asks ‘hey Con do you have a twin brother or something? I saw a barista at Starbucks who looked exactly like you but with blue eyes!!’ Well, GReed, as far as I am aware of, no I don’t have any twin brothers. But now I’m super curious about this guy. Send me a private message with the address of this Starbucks so I can see him too!” He smiles and rubs his neck in a sweet and boyish fashion.

“Another question… From WRNorth: ‘a few videos ago you commented about the TRACIs channel, are there other camboys or camgirls you like? Do you have any inspirations in your area?’” Connor taps his finger on his chin, pensively. “So, I love the TRACIs channel, they are great and also very sweet. I also love Markus Jericho, who also happen to be my personal friend and whom I like a lot. In fact, it was Markus who sent me this plug I used today so you should all go to his channel thank him!”

In the dressing room, an alarm starts to ring in Connor’s head. He doesn’t quite get why but he feels like he should stop the video on that point. He tries to reach for it but Hank easily avoids his intromission. On the screen, Connor makes a pensive face for a second more.

“As for my inspirations, WRNorth, I guess everyone who has been following me for a while know this, but since you asked I gotta repeat, I absolutely love Hank Anderson.”

Oh, that’s why Connor felt the urgent need to stop the video. How could he forget it?! A deep, sharp embarrassment grows in his chest where once pride was. He feels his face growing unbearably hot.

“He is juuust my type and he has a lot of presence on screen. My first video is actually me jerking off to a thirty second clip of his voice on loop,” he laughs on the screen and, in the dressing room, Connor actually wants to die. “It is a real shame he is retired, though. I would love to meet him someday, maybe work together. Can you imagine?” He giggles a little and his hair flops around like a puppy’s ears. “So, that’s it for today guys. As always I loved having you here! I’ll be back on Thursday so don’t forget to shoot me your questions and suggestions and requests. Love you, bye!”

The silence in the room is deafening. Connor feels his heart beating all over his body, his pulse so strong it hurts and he has never felt like dying so fucking much. After what feels like forever the silence is broken by Chloe, Kamski’s assistant, who knocks on the door and calls them to the set.

Hank makes a show of hitting like on Connor’s video and the subscribe button a second later. He places his phone back into his pocket and leans over, embarrassingly close to Connor’s burning face. When he speaks his beard brushes Connor’s skin and causes the tiniest moan to escape the younger man’s lips.

“It is true, your blush looks absolutely adorable on camera, but I must say I’m way more excited to see it up close soon.”

Hanks leaves, his posture confident and firm, the set of his shoulders solid and his presence captivating just like Connor had always imagined it would be. The young man swallows around the lump on his throat. As he gets up and fixes his suit he just hopes he is wearing enough makeup to hide the fact that he won’t stop blushing anytime soon.


	2. Cut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a porn star is hard (pun intended)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've watched the gameplays a million times to get the introduction scene as close to the game as possible, youtube probably thinks I'm crazy...
> 
> Well, I know nothing about the porn industry but I did have fun writing this! Also, porn movie logic ahead (spoiler alert: it makes no logic)

Kamski’s vision is big and ambitious: a series of interconnected, character-driven, high technology sci-fi movies. He calls it Become Human. From what Connor and Hank glanced from their scripts it all revolves around the idea of androids gaining sentience and feelings and starting a pacific uprising, ending in a lot of love. And sex. They are in the porn industry regardless of Kamski’s formal education on screenwriting and creative fiction.

Chloe guides Connor and Hank to the set where Kamski and the crew are waiting to start the shooting. Their first scene is in a bar and the attention to detail in the scenography is surprising; the counter is stained and scrapped, the stools are faded, the bottles on the shelf have varied levels of colored liquid inside. If it wasn’t for the crew and equipment Connor would really believe he was in a real bar.

“Ok, let’s get started!” Kamski’s voice echoes in the open space. “Hank, Connor, come here,” he beckons and both actors approach quickly. “In our first scene, Connor’s character is looking for Hank’s. Before you enter the bar we’ll make a pan shot of the set, so you can wait behind that mark on the floor, okay Connor?”

Connor looks to the spot Kamski pointed. It is a simple cross made out of silver tape on the floor. The younger man nods curtly.

“We’ll add a door there later,” Kamski says. “With some after effects and whatnot. Hank will sit down and drink and then you come in looking for him.”

Both Connor and Hank nod, Hank looking clearly a little bored with the detailed explanation. However, since he knows this is Connor’s first experience with acting he doesn’t complain.

“Are you ready?” Hank asks, looking at Connor with a mix of condescendence and fondness. Connor nods sharply, his throat suddenly dry.

“On your places!” Kamski shouts and all the crew member around shot to their positions. Lights are turned on with loud clicking noises, a couple of actors enter the bar and take position on the counter, drinks already in their hands. Hank winks at Connor as he too takes place on the set. Connor’s legs feel stiff and ungraceful as he walks to the silver tape on the floor.

“Action!”

The camera rolls across the set, it stops to zoom in on a prohibited sign drawn over a blue triangle: the symbols of androids in Kamski’s universe. This place is not android friendly, Connor remembers reading this on the script. _Look and act careful_ , Kamski wrote in his notes to Connor.

When the camera arrives at Connor’s feet he sees Kamski making a gesture with his hand. A cue. Connor takes a deep breath before stepping into the set. Walk like a robot, he chants in his mind.

_The customers act aggressively._

“Hey, tin can, if you’re not here to suck some cock go away!”

Connor steels himself. It is part of the script, he reminds himself as the background characters sneer and provoke him. He ignores the men, looking around with stiff shoulders and a blank expression on his face. It is not difficult to spot Hank at the back of the false bar but Connor wants to sell the idea that he is really looking for him and not just straight up walking up to him.

“Lieutenant Anderson,” he says, voice neutral. “My name is Connor, I am the android sent by CyberLife.”

Kamski said it would be better if they kept their real names on screen. _This will be your first big project, you don’t want to be known as ‘the guy who played that android’ forever_ ; he said and Connor agreed.

Hank, as described on the script, ignores Connor and continues sipping from his glass.

“I asked about you on the station but nobody knew where you went,” Connor continues. On the edge of his peripheral vision he sees Kamski and Chloe nodding slightly, encouraging him to continue. “They said you were probably having a drink nearby. I was lucky to find you at the fifth bar.”

“What do you want?” Even in this circumstance Hank’s voice trembles pleasantly down Connor’s spine. The younger man swallows quickly before continuing with his lines.

“You were assigned a case early this evening. A homicide, involving a CyberLife android. In accordance with procedure, the company has allocated a specialized model to assist investigators.”

“Well, I don’t need any assistance,” Hanks drawls, still pointedly avoiding looking at Connor. “Specially not from a plastic asshole like you.”

The scene continues for a few more minutes. It is clear from the script that Hank’s character hates androids, and while Connor understands that this is just acting he feels oddly sad to be subject of Hank’s despise like that. After Connor’s character convinces Hank’s to leave the bar they walk down the narrow corridor back to the silver tape mark on the floor and continue walking until Kamski shouts ‘cut’.

“That was impressive, kid,” Hank says as they return to the center of the set.

Connor weaves a deep sigh.

“I was so nervous,” he says with a weak little laugh. Hank smiles at him.

“I could barely notice,” the veteran actor says.

“It is easy to hide when you’re a robot,” Connor replies, smirking, and Hank smirks back at him.

“Very good, Connor,” Kamski says as they approach the director. “You seemed a bit too unsure about talking to Hank in the first moment, I want to shoot your first two lines again, is it alright?”

Connor nods and Hank rolls his eyes, a little annoyed, but returns to his place at the counter anyway.

They repeat the scene and Kamski claps loudly as they finish.

“Marvellous! Let’s go to the police station now!”

Quickly, much quicker than Connor thought possible, the crew reorganizes the set. The counter and stools go, the shelves and liquor bottles vanish, and they quickly assemble an equally as realistic police station. Or as realistic as Kamski’s futuristic vision allows. There is a big white table with buttons and panels all around, and a perfectly black box full of props for the evidence on the homicide case. The lights change, the entire atmosphere of the set turns professional, sterilized.

Connor is taken back to the makeup station by Chloe and when he returns it is impossible to tell that ten minutes ago there was a bar set in that same location.

“Alright,” Kamski says. “Now Connor and Hank are back at the police station. There are pieces of evidence in the box and the table is actually a tactile panel.” To prove his point he taps the table and it lights up, a fictional emblem from the Detroit Police Department occupies most of the space. “Connor, this is your first sex scene so we’ll try and make this as calm and easy as possible.”

Connor suddenly feels hot under the stiff collar of his suit. He remembers the script, the corny lines, the notes written in red ink around the pages.

_Prep yourself beforehand!!!!!!_

There were six exclamation points in this particular note, so Connor really took it to his heart. Chloe had given him a private room to do this and he had used liberal amounts of the blue lube provided by the production. He can actually feel some of it threatening to leak and he focuses on controlling himself as he and Hank take position by the table.

Kamski claps him on the back, encouragingly, and goes to his place behind the camera.

“How are you?” Hank asks before Kamski has the camera rolling.

“Nervous?” Connor replies, unsure of what to say. He is confident that he wants to do this, he trusts both Kamski and Hank and the crew around them. He is already filling out at the mere thought of getting fucked by his idol. But, at the same time, he feels a little sick on the stomach and so nervous it is a miracle he hasn’t suffered a heart attack yet.

“We’ll shoot the dialogue first,” Hank continues. “No need to worry about this part. I believe you will feel more comfortable as we shoot the scene but if you want a break we’ll all understand.”

Connor nods with a shy smile. He would never have guessed how sweet of a guy Hank is. It fills his heart with a fluttery feeling and he feels his cock twitching lightly.

They take positions, the crew scatter around. Lights, microphones, cameras, all ready. Kamski orders them to start, the camera clicks loudly as it rolls.

“Lieutenant, I have gathered all the evidence in this box,” Connor says, neutral and mechanical.

“That’s not a lot to work with,” Hank replies with some hostility. “You sure are a useless piece of plastic if you can’t process this by yourself.”

“This is only the physical evidence, Lieutenant,” Connor continues, face neutral as if Hank’s tone hadn’t registered. “There are footage and other digital information to relay to you.”

Hank makes a dismissive noise and moves closer to Connor. The difference in their height and build suddenly feels very pronounced as Connor has to look up to meet Hank’s eyes.

“Oh, yeah? Show it to me, tin man,” Hank’s voice is menacing and enticing and it goes directly to Connor’s cock. It is not difficult to focus on Hank and forget the crew and equipment around them.

Connor touches the table, lighting it up. He moves some files around as per instructed on the script and Hank crowds over him, his solid frame trapping Connor against the table.

“Where is the evidence, android?”

Oh, there is so much despise in Hank’s voice it would hurt Connor’s heart if it wasn’t so hot. Hank’s breath, a mix of mint and the whiskey from the previous scene, fan down Connor’s neck and he feels inebriated.

“The equipment seems to be malfunctioning,” Connor says, trying his damn hardest not to rut back into Hank’s slowly filling erection. Keeping his robotic monotone is the only way to maintain some sort of composure so he does his best to continue with his lines as mechanically as possible. “I’ve saved the information on the station’s online drive but I believe the internet is down for some reason.”

Hank tsks.

“You brought me here for nothing?” He grabs Connor’s arm and squeezes it, not hard but enough to look threatening.

“I can upload it directly to the table,” Connor reasons, pupils dilated and breath choppy. He bites his lip.

“Do this,” Hank orders and shoves him against the table.

Connor forces his hands to stay steady as he opens his suit and pulls his tie loose.

“What are you doing?” Hank asks in a snarl.

“My connecting interface is located under my shirt, Lieutenant,” Connor recites his line as he turns in the tight space between Hank and the table. “My uniform will only get in the way.”

Maybe he says the last line a little too flirtatiously but he just can’t help. At the very corner of his eye, he sees Kamski frowning for a split second but nodding along in the end, so he continues the scene. The suit falls to the floor and the tie follows suit.

“You’re awfully incompetent,” Hank sneers. “Look how long you take to just take your fucking shirt off…”

Hank’s big hands grab Connor's wrists and pull them away from his shirt. He makes quick work of the buttons, being careful enough not to disturb the cables and plugs attached to Connor's smooth chest with layers upon layers of spirit gum. He takes a micro USB plug and twirls it around his finger.

“Careful, Lieutenant,” Connor's voice comes a little shaky. “These cables are sensitive.”

“I thought machines didn’t feel anything,” he teases, tugging the cable.

“I am programmed for self-preservation,” Connor says as matter-of-factly as he can. “Damaging my components will not bring any advances to the investigation.”

Hank smiles like a predator, the presence Connor has always been impressed by making the young man shake slightly.

“Well, if you don't want to be damaged show some utility.”

Connor turns back to the table and leans over it, carefully attaching the USB plug into the port on the table. Kamski said that the after effects team would make the animations for the files and images uploading and whatnot. _All you have to do is rut against the table and moan prettily_. Connor could definitely do this.

He starts off softly, gyrating his hips and allowing breathy sounds to escape his lips. His cock is filling out fast and he grows bolder with his movements and sounds.

“Connor, moan a little louder,” Kamski instructs and, well, it is strange to receive orders in this situation but he does as he is told. “And tilt your head higher, I want a good shot of your face.”

Connor tilts his head and forces his back a little, accentuating the curve of his spine and bringing his ass that bit closer to Hank’s hips.

“What the fuck is this?” Hank asks, and Connor likes to think he’s heard a telltale breathlessness on the veteran actor’s voice. “You look like a mechanic whore.”

“My software is reacting strongly,” Connor says, allowing some of his desperation to seep into the monotone of his voice. “This case is important, I am receiving positive feedback for my help. The more I assist you the better I will feel!”

The script is not specific about how long he should continue, so he keeps moaning, louder and louder and grinding against the table freely until a beeping sound signals the end of the scene.

He is sweating under the heat of the lights and his cock is fully hard and wet on the tip. Hank’s hand presses down on the middle of his back, and some of the air leaves Connor’s lungs abruptly.

“Assisting me will make you feel good, hun?” Hank leans over him, chest heavy and hot against Connor’s back. “Do you think you can assist me with this?” He grinds his hips down against Connor’s plump ass. He is hard and ready and Connor’s mouth waters.

“Absolutely,” he replies, turning his face sideways to show his smirk, and his blush, to the camera, “Lieutenant.”

Hank shoves him back on the table and smooths his hands down the pale, freckled expanse of his back. Connor tilts his ass up. Behind the camera Kamski makes an appreciative noise on the back of his throat and whispers some instructions to the crew. Connor is vaguely aware of the cameras and microphones moving around them; he is way too focused on Hank’s fingers undoing his belt and tugging his pants down the soft plumpness of his ass.

The older man leans down, beard brushing on Connor’s skin as he murmurs in his ear.

“If you need me to slow down snap your fingers, ok?”

Connor nods and makes a desperate little sound. Hank inhales deeply, the scent of cologne and stage makeup fills his nose before he pulls back up and grabs Connor’s asscheeks on both hands and squeezes.

“Part-time detective, part-time fleshlight,” Hank says and Connor moans loudly as he presses a finger into Connor’s ass. “Self-lubricating? Maybe you are not as incompetent as I supposed.”

Connor had thoroughly prepared himself and Hank’s fingering him is a precaution as well as a good show. The lube squelches around his fingers, thick and tinted blue and smelling sweet and fruity.

“Hold his cheeks open,” Kamski says. “I want to show the blue lube.”

Hank does as Kamski asks. He pulls his fingers away and spreads the young man’s asscheeks as wide as possible. Connor’s hole twitches at the sudden emptiness and Hank remembers the video, of the well-placed camera capturing that same fluttering of muscles. _This will look good,_ he thinks and squeezes Connor’s ass for good measure.

“Good,” Kamski says. “Connor, are you ready?”

Connor can’t really reply, his throat is dry and he is panting pitifully, his breath fogging the table up. He nods as enthusiastically as he can and licks his lips before muttering an affirmative answer.

“Perfect,” Kamski sounds excited. “Hank, it’s you now.”

“Let me give you some positive feedback,” Hank says and, honestly, if Connor wasn’t fighting off an orgasm he would laugh at how absurdly corny those lines are.

Hank undoes his belt and fly with one hand, the other continues running up and down Connor’s back, over his hips and ass, between his thighs. He rubs his cock on the mess of lube that is staining Connor’s legs and ass blue but doesn’t press in right away. His hand squeezes Connor’s hip gently and the young man catches his meaning and moans a soft yes. Hank’s breath leaves his chest in a long rumble as he slides in.

Connor has seen countless hours of Hank Anderson movies. He has seen Hank fucking all kinds of people, in all kinds of position, from all the possible angles. Nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of Hank’s cock slow and steadily entering him. He whines and his hands grip the edge of the table until his knuckles turn white.

It doesn’t hurt. He is well prepared and Hank is too gentle, but it is overwhelming nonetheless. No plug, no dildo, no other cock has ever filled him like that. It suddenly makes sense why Hank got so famous.

“Start slow,” Kamski instructs and his voice feels like a knife cutting into the haze in Connor’s mind. “Let’s get some different angles before you start thrusting harder. Connor, how are you holding up?”

“Fine,” Connor grumbles as he presses his eyes closed and try to forget about the other twelve people or so around them.

Hank thrusts, slow and languid, for some time. Every few seconds Kamski would yell some instruction or ask something and Connor finds himself in an uncomfortable limbo between pleasure and annoyance.

“Moan a little less, Connor,” Kamski says for what feels like the millionth time. “Don’t forget you’re a robot. We want to give some space for Hank now.”

At some point, Hank finally starts thrusting in earnest and Connor begins to lose himself to the pleasure. The rhythm is perfect, Hank’s groans and grunts seem to echo in the space between their bodies, the older man’s hands mold perfectly against the curve of Connor’s hips.

Connor is so close he can taste it. Unconsciously he moves a little, changing the angle and making Hank’s cock nail his prostate spot on. He screams a little.

“Connor, move your hips back down,” Kamski instructs and there are no words to describe Connor’s frustration as he does so. “You can jerk off now, Connor.”

It feels oddly empty. Ironically, Connor’s orgasm feels mechanic. All the pieces are there, Hank and him and the delicious friction between them, but the constant interruptions and cues and lines made it impossible for him to fully enjoy it. He hasn’t felt this unfulfilled since his drunk adventures in college.

Hank comes a second later. Connor feels some of his release pumping inside him and some more being painted across his lower back. He thrusts the scene to look beautiful and enticing but other than breathless and a little sore he doesn’t feel anything in particular. Few times sex has been so frustrating.

“Maybe having an android assistant isn’t such a terrible thing,” Hank says, voice completely composed and Connor feels his fingers slipping over the mess of come and lube.

“I am glad you are reconsidering, Lieutenant,” Connor spills his line, even more robotic than before.

“If you continue to prove useful, I might even grow attached,” Hank squeezes his butt once more and then moves away. “Now, dress up and help me with this evidence.”

“Yes, Lieutenant,” Connor recites his last line, removes the USB plug from the port and starts to dress up back again.

“And cut!”

For once Kamski’s voice brings relief and not stress to Connor. “That was very good. With some editing it will be perfect! Hank and Connor, you are free to go; the rest of the crew start the cleaning up and meet me in the editing room in an hour.”

The set lights are turned off and the crew starts to dismantle the police station. Connor finishes dressing up and all he thinks about is getting into the changing room and taking a shower. He has just come but he feels on edge, he considers jacking off on the shower just to get rid of the restless energy thrumming under his skin. He actually squeaks in surprise when he feels a big, hot hand touching his back.

“Are you okay?” Hank asks. Connor is surprised to be approached by him in this way.

“Ah, yes, I’m fine,” he answers and it is not really a lie so he doesn’t feel too bad saying it.

“You don’t seem fine,” Hank observes and with a gentle touch on Connor’s back he starts to guide them away from the bustling crew.

“I am…” Connor hesitates.

“Frustrated?”

Connor pales for a second and then a violent blush lights up on his face.

“Is it really that obvious?”

Hank laughs boisterously, a reaction very different from what Connor expected. The veteran actor pats his backs softly.

“Don’t worry, kid,” he says, voice light and genuine. “Porn is meant to be visual and not real. It is very common to feel frustrated after a scene.”

Connor digests this information. He has never considered this perspective before.

“But you look like you’re enjoying it so much,” he argues and once again Hank laughs.

“Well, I am an actor,” he replies easily and Connor can’t help but smile back. “Did you enjoy it at least a little?”

His question sounds genuine. He is not fishing for compliments or asking to have his ego stroked; he just honestly cares for Connor. The camboy smiles softly at him as they arrive in the changing room.

“I was having the time of my life before Kamski started to yell at me every five seconds.”

Hank’s soft smile turns dangerous very fast and it has an immediate effect on Connor’s heart rate. The older man leans over his smaller partner, blue eyes sparkling as he takes in Connor’s renewed blush and the way he is biting and worrying his lip.

“Well, I bet if Elijah wasn’t there I would make this time even more memorable,” Hank says in a rumbling voice.

“I bet you would, Lieutenant,” Connor says, eyes half-lidded and hands lightly landing on the broad expanse of Hank’s chest.

“Hmm, are you bringing the character out of the set?” Hank leans down, not quite kissing Connor but close enough to make his head spin.

“I guess I am a method actor after all,” Connor teases and Hank snorts a laugh through his nose before burying his face on the slender curve of Connor’s neck.

“If it is so, then come and pay me further assistance, you pretty piece of plastic,” Hank presses the words directly on Connor’s skin, each one feeling like a hot brand on the younger man’s neck.

“Right away, Lieutenant,” Connor agrees easily and locks the door behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG thanks a lot for the comments and kudos! They mean a lot to me <3
> 
> Come hang with me on [Tumblr](http://burn-gormans-eyelashes.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter ](https://twitter.com/curiumkingyo) :D


	3. Moan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catch me updating this at 6 in the morning on a working day! No time to beta this shit so bear with my mistakes, please <3

Connor’s back hits the door the second it closes, Hank all over him in the blink of an eye. The air leaves Connor in a rush, and he giggles a little as the reality of the situation finally starts to sink in.

He is about to have sex with Hank Anderson. Real sex, not staged lines and directed moves. With the real Hank Anderson, not masturbatory fantasies and old videos online. A shiver runs up and down his entire body, goosebumps rising all over his skin.

“Excited?” Hank asks and it is just unfair how his voice sound up close like this. Warm and velvety, caressing Connor’s senses. Connor shivers even more.

“Yes,” he replies weakly and he feels as Hank smiles, the older man’s lips pressed tightly against his neck, his hands holding Connor’s waist like they belong there.

“Show me,” Hank says, his voice a delicate balance between demand and request. “You look so good when you’re truly enjoying yourself. I can’t take that little video of yours out of my mind.”

Connor makes a desperate little sound, his hips grinding up against Hank’s on their own volition. He doesn’t know if it is Hank’s voice, his words or simply everything about him, but  _ something  _ is having a devastating effect on Connor. He is young and his refractory period is short but it is still ridiculous how fast he gets hard again.

Hank notices his desperation and grins against Connor’s face. He tightens the hold on Connor’s waist, marvelling at how slim it is. Hank’s hands are big and they envelope so much of Connor’s midriff it feels like he could actually hold all of him in his hands if he tried hard enough. Hank is nothing if not hard working, so he presses more, squeezes Connor until his fingertips are almost touching.

“Hank…” Connor moans, his breathing erratic, his entire face and neck burning red. “Too tight.”

Hank lets go of Connor’s waist and gently touches his sides, apologetically.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to hurt you,” he says pulling away to nuzzle the messy hair on the top of Connor’s head. “You just feel so fragile and pretty in my hands, I couldn’t control myself.”

Connor’s answering whimper sounds like a little kitten.

“Say it again,” he pleads, his own hands closing around Hank’s wrists and pressing his palms against Connor’s waist again. Hank’s nostrils flare and his pupils dilate quickly.

“What do you want to hear, pet?” Hank teases, his hands slip free of Connor’s grip and he starts to unbutton the younger man’s shirt. “That you are so pretty that I cannot control myself? That every time I close my eyes I see you orgasming with that plug being swallowed by your little ass? That I am getting an erection again even after fucking you for almost forty minutes in front of the cameras?”

Connor moans and throws his head back, it his the door with a dull sound but no pain registers on his foggy brain. Hank slips his hands inside Connor’s recently opened shirt, his palms hot over even hotter skin.

The fake access panel and cables are still glued to Connor’s chest and Hank eyes the contraption with a raised eyebrow.

“This thing must come off,” Hank says, tugging one of the wires almost playfully. “Shall we move this to the showers?”

“Yes, please!” Connor squeaks in response. Hank smiles at him, absolutely charmed by his young co-star.

Hank presses in again, instead of pulling away as one would expect from someone who wants to move to a new location. He presses his entire body against Connor’s: his lips over Connor’s forehead, chest and chest pressed tightly together, hips grinding in stilted circles.

They move in sync. Hank’s hands grab Connor by the thighs and at the same moment the younger man wraps his arms around Hank’s shoulders. Hank carries Connor across the changing room, and Connor presses one kiss to Hank’s neck, chest and shoulder for each step they take. Hank suddenly feels like walking a mile.

Hank gently deposits Connor on the sink counter and opens the faucet to let some warm water run. Connor is all too happy being taken care of, he continues to lazily kiss Hank’s upper body as the older man soaks a towel in warm water and uses it to peel the spirit gum away from Connor’s skin.

The whole process is slow, Chloe had really gone all out on the makeup department, and it takes them several minutes to pull and pluck away all the glue and pieces of wire from Connor’s chest.

The forced pause changes the atmosphere. Where it was frantic and desperate before, it is slow and tender now. Connor has Hank’s neck and jawline memorized by now as he has spent all this time just exploring him with his lips and tongue, his hands politely resting on the older man’s hips during all the process.

Hank throws the damp towel away and takes a step closer, occupying the space between Connor’s spread legs. He places a gentle hand on Connor’s waist, feeling the softness and warmth of his skin. The other hand comes to rest on Connor’s face, thumb gently tracing the young man’s bottom lip.

Connor’s eyes are so beautiful, so expressive. Even with most of their sweet brown color hidden by his dilated pupils he still conveys so much through his gaze. And right now it conveys desire, lust, but also a surprising affection and tenderness. Everything about him seem to pass a message, though. The look on his glazed eyes, the way he gently bites his bottom lip, teeth lightly catching on Hank’s thumb.

Everything about him conveys a single desire, one that is easy for Hank to recognize and to address.

“I would appreciate it if you kissed me right now,” the older man says, the breathlessness of his voice betraying his apparent control.

Connor wastes absolutely no time.

Hands shoot up to tangle in Hank’s grey hair and Connor doesn’t hesitate to pull him down and crash their lips together. Connor’s shakey moan is completely swallowed by Hank, lips sealed around each other. It is hot, and wet, and at some point Connor gets so excited he accidentally clicks their teeth together but neither of them seem to care. Their kissing continue for endless moments, lips sliding and brushing against each other even in the spare pauses they make to breath in some fresh air.

Hank doesn’t remember the last time he was kissed so thoroughly. His lips tingle, his face feels hot, his mouth tastes of Connor, Connor, Connor. It is addictive.

“Your clothes,” Connor manages to speak between one kiss and the next. Hank nods, his lips quickly finding more of Connor’s skin to explore as he undoes the buttons on his shirt and discards it carelessly.

Connor pulls away when he feels the fabric slipping off of Hank’s body, he feels an overwhelming need to see Hank’s bared chest. He is starstruck all over again.

To say that he is familiar with the appearance of Hank’s body is an understatement. He has seen so many movies, some of them he knows almost by heart; so he is not at least surprised by the tattoo covering most of Hank’s chest or the thick curls of grey hair there, or the little prominent belly. He is, however, surprised by the long scar on the right side of his stomach and what looks like a gunshot scar a little to the left.

Unconsciously, his fingers touch the gunshot scar. Hank sucks in a breath and Connor feels the muscles shifting under his fingertips.

“I didn’t know you had those,” Connor says, fascinated.

Hank gently takes his hand in his own, their fingers twisting together as he brings Connor’s hand up to kiss his knuckles.

“Sorry,” Connor says, contrite. Hank’s action speaking a thousand words.

“Don’t be,” Hank replies softly, lips brushing Connor’s fingers. “It was not your fault.”

A moment passes by. Connor doesn’t quite meet Hank’s eyes, his gaze constantly slipping back to the scars.

“Do you want to stop?” Hank asks, hints of hurt and regret on his voice.

“No!” Connor snaps back, looking at Hank’s face with a mild panicked expression. “No, please,” he asks, softly this time.

“Are you not disgusted?” Hank asks, thumb rubbing circles over Connor’s hand.

“I would never be disgusted by you,” Connor says. “I am inspired by you.”

Hank takes a sharp intake of breath. He presses his entire face against Connor’s hand. The younger man pulls him closer, cradles his face between loving palms and presses soft kisses all over his face. The defensiveness in Hank’s posture slowly melts away.

“I have always admired your work,” Connor tells him in a sweet voice. “Back when I was in high school I struggled a lot to understand and accept who I am. The first time I saw one of your videos I was immediately drawn to you, you had such a presence, such an aura. When I realized you were having sex with both men and women in your videos I started to accept my own sexuality better.”

There is a moment of silence, and while it is not exactly comfortable it is not oppressive either. Hank closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. His lungs fill with the scent of Connor’s body spray and he feels a knot loosening in his chest.

“I am sorry that whatever happened happened,” Connor continues and this time when he brushes his fingers against Hank’s scars the older man doesn’t recoil. “You are a good person, I see it in your interviews and posts, and in the way you’ve been treating me since I arrived here. Please, let me show you how much I appreciate you.”

Connor leans down and kisses Hank softly, his hands exploring the other man’s body. He runs his fingers down Hank’s collarbones and chest, nails catching on the thick but sparse hair covering his tattoo. He kisses Hank’s lips and the top of his cheeks above the well groomed line of his beard. Hank allows the gentle exploration.

Their confidence starts to grow again. Connor continues touching and kissing as much of Hank as he can reach. He is pleasantly surprised when Hank starts to do the same to him. Full lips brush the line of Connor’s neck, kisses are peppered across his shoulders, hands caress and tease his skin. Connor whimpers softly and arches his back, offering more of himself to Hank, cutting the already short distance between them.

Hank’s teeth close on the high jut of Connor’ clavicle and he applies a little pressure, the faintest indent mark marring Connor’s freckled shoulder. Connor moans, the slight hint of pain shooting directly to his cock.

“If I didn’t know Elijah would kill me for this, I would litter your skin with love bites and bruises,” Hank says, licking his lips. Connor is glad he is sitting on the counter because he isn’t sure he would be able to stand up with his knees suddenly so weak.

“Chloe is very good with makeup,” Connor points out, breathless, his head spinning.

“Covering bruises is difficult,” Hank says but his teeth continue teasing and pressing light marks across Connor’s collarbones. “And Elijah doesn’t like to rely on makeup.”

Connor puffs out his chest in an attempt to make Hank finally sink his teeth in. Hank resists.

“After we finish shooting this film I won’t be working for Kamski anymore,” Connor informs.

“This sounds an awful lot like an invitation,” Hank teases, licking over the colorless marks, soothing the sight sting.

“Hank, please.”

“When we wrap this up I’ll take you home and really show you a good time.”

Connor moans a little and nods enthusiastically. He throws himself back at Hank, kissing and sucking his lips until they pulse on the rhythm of Hank’s frantic heartbeat. Hank replies in kind, kissing and biting and shoving his hand down Connor’s pants to grab his cock firmly.

The sound that leaves Connor’s mouth is not too different from a wounded animal. It echoes on the changing room and in the spaces between Hank’s bones. Connor seems to vibrate, every part of his body charged, all the emotions that have been rolling around suddenly trying to burst free. His fingers feel like hooks on Hank’s shoulder, piercing him with his polished nails.

The zipper of Connor’s pants drag almost painfully against Hank’s hand but he doesn’t have enough brain power left to actually stop and remove the piece of clothing. Instead he grits his teeth and tries to change the angle without letting go of Connor.

Connor is panting and moaning, Hank’s face pressed against his as they share frantic little kisses and smiles. Their faces are hot and pink, their lips plump and sensitive as they brush against one another.

“This is so good,” Connor groans, every touch feeling like a fever dream. Hank rumbles deeply in agreement.

With the hand he isn’t using to anchor himself to reality Connor paws and tugs on Hank’s pants. It takes both of them awkwardly fumbling around and giggling softly to open the zipper and button on his dark jeans. His underwear is tented, a dark and wet spot growing at the front. Once the challenge of opening Hank’s pants is conquered Connor acts quickly.

His fingers, nimble and long, wrap around Hank’s more than generous girth. They both moan. Precum spills over Connor’s fingers, slicking the movement and making a lewd sound.

“Together,” Hank demands, tilting his hips up and bringing Connor’s cock closer.

Connor scoots to the very edge of the counter and hooks his legs around Hank’s hips. Hank  holds Connor up, the new angle brings their hips perfectly together but it seems quite precarious for Connor. He could slip at any moment and Hank just can’t have that happening. He spreads his legs a little wider apart, his base solid and firm, and he braces his body against Connor - a wall between the younger man and the rest of the world.

Connor feels unbelievably safe. Hank is hot and heavy around him, arms and lips tethering him. Free to do as he pleases, Connor wraps both his hands around them and presses their erections tightly. The friction is lessened by the precum, leaking in abundance from both men, but it is addictive nonetheless. It feels good, familiar, safe.

Hank’s own fingers curl into the freckled expanse of Connor’s skin as the younger man makes it his life mission to make them both come sooner rather than later.

“I can’t hold much longer,” Hank says between gritted teeth. Connor moans a frantic sound of approval and agreement.

With his orgasm so close it is difficult for Connor to keep his ministrations. His hips are spasming, his throat is dry, his chest is about to explode. He tightens his grip, almost by accident, and his nail drags down the fat vein on the underside of Hank’s cock. Hank’s reaction is immediate and impossible to miss.

The sound of Hank’s orgasm, a real one, is a true symphony to Connor’s ears. It is rough and broken, but also harmonious in a way that is hard to describe. Hank’s come shoots across Connor’s legs and stomach, his fingers and arm, overflowing the small space until it drips on the floor between them.

Connor doesn’t resist it. The sound, the feel, the full body shiver that echoes into his own limbs. He comes, voice muffled against the thick cords of Hank’s neck.

They stay there, in a delicate balance as their hearts slow down and their breathing regain some rhythm.

Panting, Connor brings a hand up to touch Hank’s face. Just before he actually touches him, Connor sees the come shining on his skin and hesitates. Hank senses his hesitance, and can’t help the affection growing in his chest. He leans up and licks a broad stripe over Connor’s fingers, scooping some of the come and swallowing it while looking straight into Connor’s eyes.

“Fuck…” Connor gasps in a very small voice before leaning in to kiss Hank, his come covered fingers combing through his wild hair.

“Can you stand?” Hank asks once they finally pull apart.

“Sure,” Connor replies and tries to prove his point by hopping off the counter. And almost falling over because of sudden cramps on his hip. Luckily Hank is quick to catch him.

“Sure,” the older man repeats, teasing, and Connor blushes sweetly at him.

“Maybe not,” he concedes and Hank snorts a laugh and presses a rain of little kisses over his face.

“I could carry you to the shower,” Hank suggests. Connor looks up at him, a pensive expression on his face.

“Or,” the younger man replies, bringing Hank’s arms around him and comfortably leaning against his chest, “we could stay here like this a little longer.”

Hank looks down at him, all soft skin and freckled and sugar sweet smiles. He could definitely spend some more time wrapped around him. He smiles against the wild little curl of hair falling over Connor’s forehead.

“Yeah, we can stay like this a little longer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fully intended on making this filthy™ but it got a mind of its own and turned... rather sweet and emotional?  
> I'm a little confused, honestly OTL
> 
> I had so much fun writing this, and I really wanted to have a mindblowing sex scene between them so I am considering adding a new chapter to this story. It is just an idea, though, so no promises!

**Author's Note:**

> I had half a page explaining Kamski's business plans and the history of CyberLife Productions but then I realized I just really wanted to write the fucking so I cut the bullshit and here we are.
> 
> Twink!Connor is explicit here because  
> 01) It is true  
> 02) It is a joke between my friend and I
> 
> Also, worth mentioning I haven't played D:BH yet. I'll probably play it this weekend or the next so sorry for any inconsistencies (?)
> 
> Come hang with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/curiumkingyo) or [Tumblr](http://burn-gormans-eyelashes.tumblr.com) and if you are feeling generous, take a look at my [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/O5O8K6GJ#) too <3


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